


Meet Me In Peace Hall

by spookalicious



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookalicious/pseuds/spookalicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard gets put in Peace Hall after another breakdown, where he meets Frank, a mischievous patient with Borderline Personality Disorder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Did You Die?

It’s foggy. No.. Not foggy. Dark. Cold. But not foggy. There’s voices too. Lots of guys, it sounds. Gerard couldn’t make it out- his head ached too much to think very hard about it. Dull waves of pain seemed to shoot through him every time he tried to move. Whether he was actually moving, he wasn’t sure. It felt like he was, though.

It felt like he was spinning, in all honesty. Like he was laying in the middle of a merry-go-round that just wouldn’t stop. When he finally opened his eyes to think, he was greeted with nothing but the prison of concrete walls, too close for comfort.

He parted his lips with a sigh. There was no surprise here. He’d been locked away in the “Peace Hall” multiple times. It just kinda reminded him of the solitary confinement he’d seen in those prison shows. That always gave him the shivers. The rooms in Peace Hall had windows though, so it wasn’t _exactly_ the same, he supposed. The more he thought into this, the more his head just hurt even more.

Now that he was conscious, he’d have to work on getting up without shutting down. Gerard began to sit up, only for a wave of nausea to flood over him. Fuck.

Of course, it didn’t take long before he fell to the ground. He groaned softly upon impact before noting the “Bang!” outside of his room. “Hello? New guy? You up?” 

Gerard furrowed his brows and tried to sit up once again, a bit slower this time. He rubbed the back of his head, inhaling softly. “New guy? You mean me?” He chuckled a bit, but winced because wow his head hurt. “I’m not new.”

He heard a scoff come from the outside the door. “Yeah, sure, sweetie. I’m sure you’ve been here forever. Never seen you before. Watched them put you in there, man.” The voice seemed close, but far enough away that Gerard realized it was another “inmate”. “Man, you had some sort of bloodlust or something going on. Kicking, screaming, just pure anger.” 

Gerard closed his eyes, sighing as he leaned back on his hands, shoulders tight. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he just stayed quiet. Very quickly, he got lost in his thoughts, which included why he was in Peace Hall. He was only pulled out of said thoughts when his neighbor spoke up again.

“Hey, man, did you die or something?”

“Sorry. That you had to see that.”

“No worries. You see all kinds of unpeaceful shit in Peace Hall. Ironic, huh?” He heard the other laugh cynically. Gerard wasn’t really sure how to respond to that, either. 

“Uh, yeah, I suppose.” 

“So, gotta name, sweetcheeks?”

Gerard shivered. He could practically hear the smirk in the other’s voice. 

“Gerard. You?”

“Frank’s the name. Don’t wear it out.”

Gerard let out an acknowledging hum, but didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure how to respond at all to the stranger. In the time he’d been in and out of the system, he’d never really stopped along the way for conversation. It just... Wasn’t important to him. 

“Hey Gee. What got ya so worked up earlier?”

A pause. Hesitation. “Excuse me?”

“Why. Are. You. In here?” 

Frank’s voice was neutral. While he was glad, because it wasn’t pitying, but also unsure. He couldn’t read any emotion in his voice whatsoever.

“I dunno.”


	2. Spunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spunk - /spəNGk/ - noun
> 
> 1\. (Informal) Courage or determination.  
> Synonyms: courage, bravery, valor, confidence, daring, audacity

“Fuck this.” I grumbled lowly to myself. I kicked the wall halfheartedly, looking around the bare room. A small bed that was bolted to the wall, a toilet, and a very small sink. The bed had a blanket that was, honestly, the color of puke green, and it made me _want_ to puke. 

My neighbor, Frank, as he had stated, quickly piped in. “What was that, mystery man?” He seemed to be at his door at all times. For the past hour since I woke up, he would comment on anything that happened to slip out of my mouth. 

“I said ‘fuck this’,” I told him, grumbling once again, but this time my stomach joined in. I sighed and slumped onto the bed. Fucking uncomfortable. Not even a pillow? Damn.

Frank seemed to get that I didn’t feel like talking anymore, as most of my responses had come with an angry tone. He backed off, and I heard a bit of shuffling. Pretty soon, a loud bang came from down the hall. Frank seemed to cheer a bit in his room, and I stood to look out the small window. “Is it food time?” I asked, hoping he would hear me.

“Food!” The small man cheered into his own window. I looked at him curiously. All I could see was his dark brown hair, his forehead, and wow, the most gorgeous green eyes I’ve ever seen. But that was it. He was so short I was stuck at the eyes. When the orderly came around with the cart of food, my stomach growled once again as I saw the plates of food. As disgusting as they were, food was food to me. I had gotten used to it. 

Soon enough, my solitary door opened and I stepped back, taking the plastic plate carefully from the orderly’s hands. “Thank you,” I said, moving to sit back down on my bed to eat. I don’t even know what it was that I was eating, but my stomach seemed pretty pleased. 

Frank was quiet until they took the plates back up. “So, that bloodthirsty rage you went in… Do you remember any of it, or is it like, a sexual thing, or what?” Wow, real subtle.

“I’m not sure, honestly. Sometimes, I just wake up in solitary and I’m told I went into a fit, but they won’t explain it to me.” He shrugged, before realizing the other couldn’t see him doing so. “Dr. Neil wants me to ‘meet myself’ when he sends me in here, but I don’t know what the fuck that means.” I stood to look out the door’s window again, peeking towards Frank’s “cell”. 

He was already standing in front of his door, and his eyes were a little glossed over, as if he was lost in thought. They quickly cleared up when he noticed me, and he nodded. “Dr. Neil’s a fucking idiot.” He giggled a bit. Fucking _giggled_. “He tells me I need to come in here to calm down and to collect myself, so I don’t continue disturbing the other patients.” He looked down, and shifted as if he was shuffling his feet. “I think he likes me being in here because then I don’t punch him in the face.” When Frank looked back up, I focused on his eyes, which were a bit lifted. The bridge of his nose was scrunched up a bit, so it seemed like he was grinning. 

“You _punched_ him?” I asked. “You’ve got more balls than me, I’ll tell you that.” Frank seemed rather proud of himself at that. 

“Well, yeah. You’re in a fuckin’ loony bin. You expect the anyone to be calm when someone in an ugly ass white coat tells them they’re crazy?” Frank asked rhetorically. 

I bounced the thought around in my head. “Yeah, I guess not. But damn. I like you. You’ve got spunk.” 

Frank practically snorted. “ _Fuckin’ A_ , man.” He started laughing so hard I thought he would die. “Spunk, really?”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” I chuckled softly, the other’s laughter catching on rather quickly. “It’s a stupid word, I know.” Frank quickly shook his head, to which I gave him a quizzical look. Once his laughter had died down, he explained, “Nah, it’s okay. I like it.” 

I just smiled to myself, continuously thinking of the word ‘spunk’.

**Author's Note:**

> We literally just wrote this to pass the time during a sleepover.


End file.
